Tuesday, May 31, 2011
RULES MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME (she never mentioned Richard Armitage though)
Our first several years were completely dependent upon them, they taught us by word and deed, led by example. We were lucky in that both of our parents were fairly normal, honest and hardworking. Neither had any experience of college so they kind of blew that for me to tell you the truth. I had to go back as an adult to Loyola weekend college to get my degree. I finally figured out what counselors were for in my early thirties, but I digress...
LESSONS OF A LIFETIME from my mother's lips to God's ears
1. A no brainer. Always, always wear clean underwear when you leave the house. In the house it's pretty much every woman for herself, raggedly cotton with holes and loose elastic. You go for a trip you whip out the good stuff. My mother would never live long enough to see thongs become the rage - in fact, even the thought I owned one of those babies would have killed the poor woman. Thongs look like hell on me anyway, like a Sumo wrestler in a jock strap, so I've avoided them for most of my life.
2. Always, always, ALWAYS put toilet paper on a public toilet seat before you sit down. This one is a constant source of wonder to my husband who would sit on a nuclear wastedump if he had to go outside the house. I on the other hand have been known to hop around moaning and screaming as I unwrap the paper from the roll, then fold each length in half and then place it strategically in patches across the seat until the entire area is covered completely. Then, and only then, do I actually sit and sometimes I STILL CAN FEEL MOISTURE. God I hate that! What the hell is it with some women - wipe the seat if you're a hoverer would you! Please! I can take care of the rest with my toilet paper upholstery job, just do your part and leave me a dry surface on which to work. You never know who's been in there before you - hookers, lepers, Lady Gaga - could be anyone. Creepy. Whenever I think of this I remember that movie with Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant - Two Weeks Notice. Sandra does the merde dance when she finds herself in a stranger's RV toilet and she has to cover the entire surface before she can relieve herself. I laughed myself silly at that scene. My mother would have loved Sandra Bullock.
3. Never, never, never throw away your mail in a strange place. You mail has your ADDRESS on it. There are roaming groups of homeless homicidal maniacs who check the trash of Boston Market just to get their hands on addresses. Then they come to your home and poop on your driveway. Or they kill you. Either way it's really bad. This rule came to mind today when we got to Boston Market and Rich wanted to throw out an envelope that my newest Carla Kelly book came in. I stopped him, grabbed his wrist. "It has our home address on it. Don't be insane, man." He said, "All of our mail has our home address on it." There is no reasoning with this guy. Then he said, "You throw away envelopes at home all the time - junk mail, envelopes from bills...don't you?" He lives in another world from me entirely. We'll never see eye to eye on this.
Posted by Karen V. Wasylowski at 9:30 AM